


The Folly of Dimensions

by Enchantedtalisman



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dimension Travel, Father/Son Incest, Fluff, Healer Harry Potter, M/M, Powerful Harry Potter, Powerful Hermione Granger, Powerful Ron Weasley, Pre Relationship, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-03-01 12:26:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18800332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantedtalisman/pseuds/Enchantedtalisman
Summary: The rebuilt Hogwarts has many secrets still inside of it. Of course the Trio get sucked into them. That's just how their lives are, one adventure after the next.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I...was reading a very lovely and amazing Harry/Sirius fic and while it did not at all indicate Harry being interested in his father, I just had a craving for H/S/J, and had to write some of this out. Because clearly what I need are MORE unfinished wips on my ao3.
> 
> The relationship isn't starting anytime soon, and I have no idea where I'm gonna go with this other than the relationship so enjoy the ride.
> 
> ((If you dislike this pairing I understand because it is incest, but be respectful and mindful and hit the back button if you're not into this, no one is _forcing_ you to read this))
> 
> ~<3

Harry's almost half asleep and he knows it. He's stopped taking patients for the day. The Founders Healery is, thankfully, well to do when it comes to healers. He picked them all himself--after cutting out any of the folks who signed up just to be apart of the Harry Potter project. No patient in this clinic needed a damn attention seeker as their Healer.

"Harry." Hermione's voice makes Harry jolt.

Has he missed their meet up? He squints at the muggle-wixen clock on the wall. From a glance it doesn't seem like he did but he's still hesitant. For all he knows it's been a day while he's been rummaging through patient files and half working on this spell to help heal the effects of Dementor's on prisoners who were falsely accused. Who knew there were so many of those? (Harry knew, but he keeps that bit to himself, no need causing another fuss, bad enough that he is still a Healer rather than an Auror or a Curse Breaker or any other dangerous occupation a hero _should_ have)

"You're not late, it's not friday yet." Hermione says, she always is too smart for her own good sometimes. She looks a mess considering she probably just got back from the new Dragon enclosure in Britain. For a bookworm, Harry still isn't sure why she got into Dragon-keeping, but then again he supposes they all changed and grew since their school days.

"'Mione." Harry says, putting down the quill before he ruins the rest of the spell-equation. Arthimancy and runes aren't his friend, and half his spells are done by instinct so it's no surprise that half of those spells take months to write down for others. But he has learned through grit how to make the mathematics of Wixen work, even if it still makes his brain into liquid afterwards.

"Harry," She smiles and even the dragon-burn on her chin that's still healing even a year later looks beautiful on her dark skin. She sits across from him and droops a little. "You should be resting."

"Hmm, how's that going for you?" Harry asks twisting his fingers and wandlessly spells a diagnostic over his best friend. From the look on her face he wasn't as subtle as he thought he was. Everything other than a bit of magical exhaustion, and fatigue come back strong and healthy.

"Worry wart." Hermione mutters and then flicks her curly hair from across her cheeks, half her face, and most notably her lips, are still covered in a humidity balm to keep the dragon's natural dry heat from killing the moisture in her skin. Most Dragon Keepers have a modified version that comes from the east, but Harry and Hermione have experimented for days to make it more accessible and less expensive. Wixen and their import prices were _ridiculous_. "Also, I am just about to sleep when I heard from Ron that you were still up."

"Tattle Tale," Harry mutters and then taps his wand against the papers. Another spell that he knows so well he doesn't really have to think on it, but he's used a lot of magic and better safe than sorry, the only thing that seems to have penetrated his reckless behavior is his studies and work as a Healer.

"Hmm, I even convinced him to come down from Hogwarts and stop being an old man about everything." Hermione offers, watching the papers fly to and fro and her bottom lip being chewed vigorously. She's probably thinking about her plans; because if anyone could handle multiple jobs it would be Hermione, she may have a passion for Dragon and Magical Creature keeping, but she's determined to bring muggle technology into the Wixen world.

The clock on the wall still spins with a mixture of their three magics, and a soothing harmony that three years later still makes Harry feel warm and safe like family is nearby. Or what he assumes family feels like.

"Ron's coming?" Harry is admittedly surprised, if Harry's become a work-aholic, then Hermione and Ron are just as bad if not worse. Maybe it's that none of them quite have the stress of a Dark Lord on their back, but it's not necessarily a bad thing. They all know by now how to unwind and when they're reaching burn out levels...for the most part.

Snapping out of her daze, Hermione nods, "Hmm, he should have been here before me. Hogwarts isn't _that_ far from the clinic." She murmurs glancing outside.

Unlike most of Hogsmeade the Founders Clinic is actually closer to the forest. Harry hasn't just learned as much muggle medicine as he can (little as he could fit in a year of study), but herbal lore, magical lore, and as much as he can of sapient magical creatures. He has more than his fair share of specialists on hand, and the Clinic isn't _quite_ as small as most of the Muggle versions that he had visited a plenty. In fact most of the size is thanks to complex magical charms, transfiguration, and spells that allow the clinic to have an assortment of creatures and wixen inside. And of course Harry's rule that if anyone desires treatment they must not be prejudice. It's a harsh line he has had to reinforce multiple times.

A quick walk down the grassy slopes should have been easy enough for Ron, even with his hectic schedule.

"Should we visit?" Harry tilts his head and gazes out the window. Perfectly placed to view the sprawling grounds, trees all over leading deeper into the forest, and the Lake of Hogwarts. In the distance, barely visible, are the actual doors to the Grand Hall.

Hermione grimaces, steepling her hands. Even she hasn't gone near the rebuilt Hogwarts without some motivation.

It's not home anymore, and Harry admits that half the reason he stays is because it's the only home he really _knew_. Also, as if he's going to leave the Centaurs and Magical Creatures that _want_ healing alone (he frequently ignores Firenze's old herd that tries to discuss how the stars will forget his Clinic, he beat one prophecy and he's not interested in anything from them, though he can understand their wariness around Wixen). Which means keeping his Clinic somewhere accessible and not back to the only other home he might find some place; Godric Hallows. Considering the only memories he has of _there_ are worse, he stays here.

"We should, just to make sure he's alright." Hermione finally says with a sigh. She stands and her Volcanic-Resistant Robes (a new variation made of Willow Tree Fibers, that are spelled over and over each weave a new section of protection layer upon layer, but soft as Cotton that is meant to deal with all types of Dragon breath from Chinese Fireball Dragons to the Tundra Dragons that breathed literal ice, to the Toxic Underground Southern Snout Dragons) smooth out almost instantly.

Harry stands with her and checks his own carefully spelled medical-belt. Like most Muggle-Doctors he has his stethoscope, a spelled robe that keeps his robe, belt, and pants and shirt underneath his robe clean, and even a microscope (modified by Hermione and Harry), blood test papers that do the work of a whole Muggle lab, and an assortment of other odds and ends. Including a whole satchel full of carefully organized potions. Getting the potions and the magical weaving spells to work together and not blow up Harry or any other medic's hips had been a nightmare. Thankfully they are long past the now. Harry picks two pepper up potions and gently lobs it to Hermione.

Who catches it better than any Chaser could during Harry's tenure--except perhaps Ginny, but she has a ridiculous amount of talent, and enough brothers to make a Quidditch team. "Good idea," She drinks it down and brushes at her slightly singed hair. There are other signs that it's been a rough day part of the bottom of her robes is missing which looks like Claw marks that Harry thinks isn't just one or two strikes, clearly whatever Dragon was upset wasn't easily contained.

Harry's just glad Claws didn't get past Hermione's reinforced dragon-scale pants. He's already memorized almost all her scars and burns, and doesn't need another fretful night where he spends the few minutes inbetween patients standing at her bedside and checking her over and over again. He feels untold sympathy for Madam Pomfrey now that he's an actual Healer. He even sends a ridiculous assortment of fruit and chocolate baskets to her on Christmas. (and possibly some potions considering it's the least Harry can do).

With a deep gulp of the peppermint flavored potion, Harry says "Let's go then." The steam rising slowly from his ears is almost easy to ignore nowadays.

Hermione smiles and takes his hand.

Harry smiles back and they don't even have to spin before with an almost inaudible crack they disappear from Harry's office.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second Chapter. Still not sure about some things but I'm determined to at least _try_ to finish one of my Harry Potter fics...which I should probably rewrite James Raises Harry, sigh, never enough time or energy for all the things I want to do.

Hogwarts Founder Wards aren't the same, haven't been the same since the destruction of Hogwarts. But it means that there have been updates and the reconstruction had included a _lot_ of the Trio's magic. To the point that apparating to and from Hogwarts isn't so much a restriction to the Trio. Or McGonagall, not that she teaches much anymore, she is content with her wife in the tropics the last time Harry heard from her; _Potter if anyone deserves a moment of peace with my loving and patient wife, it is myself, please do not kill another Dark Lord while I'm gone_ _._

Hermione brushes her robes once more and glances around.

Harry does the same and grimaces. It's clear from the clutter of Ron's desk that he's been even busier than before. Scrolls and books fill the entire surface. Even his, currently vacant, chair has an assortment of parchment on it. "He's not here."

Hermione hums and flicks her wand. Of _course_ she starts cleaning the piles. She's never been good with mess.

Another reason why Harry and Ron still try to figure out what exactly keeps Hermione in the Dragon Reserve, Dragons can _not_ be all that orderly or clean.

Harry pulls out the modified and renewed Marauder's map, it's a cleaner map that doesn't look so worn, and reinforced with a relatively old leather hide from an Acromantula, "I solemnly swear I am here for purposes reckless and unwise." He murmurs and gives Hermione a brief glare.

Either through a sixth sense, battle awareness, or their brand of friendly familiarity, Hermione looks up and smirks at him, "The password is fitting, isn't it?" She says and continues waving her wand, spinning and twirling it without a word. Though from the look on her face Harry has no doubt she's repeating the words in her head even if they're unnecessary.

Harry rolls his eyes in reply, and scans the map. Ron's name doesn't appear on the first through seventh floors, and when he checks the more hidden areas that they had only uncovered thanks to Hogwart's destruction he doesn't find Ron...Until, Harry sighs, "He's in there again." He can't blame Ron for being curious. He's sure Hermione and he would be curious about the secrets that lay underneath the Castle if it didn't have such bad memories.

"Of course he bloody is." Hermione sighs.

The new Headmasters office, _Ron's_ office, is partially similar to Dumbledore's in the sense that it has a Gargoyle statue in front of it but without the long spiral staircase which had broken in the assault of Hogwarts. Hermione opens said Gargoyle with a press to the right side and it slides open smoothly and with a hint of protective magic.

Harry follows her through and they go towards the end of the hall--briefly glancing bitter-sweetly at the newly created Gryffindor Tower--before stopping at a covered section of wall. The tapestry isn't the same as before, but rather a long flowing makeshift thing of spider web and glittering blue yarn that Harry is pretty sure Luna made, and gave it to the school--there are at least a dozen or so of her creations in Hogwarts.

Hermione pulls aside the Tapestry with care that belies an emotion Harry doesn't call her on. She always did love Luna even if they hadn't quite worked well together. Eventually breaking it off after seven months.

Just like Harry couldn't quite handle Charlie's lack of time-management when it came to his Dragons. Not that Harry's current schedule could be excused, but at the time he _had_ come home and often.

"Well, this is the fastest way down." Hermione voice drifts towards Harry but in a tone that is meant to convince herself.

"I can go first." Harry offers, and bites back a smile, poorly, when she glares over her shoulder.

"I'm a _Gryffindor_." Hermione snaps.

With a nod, Harry raises his hands, "Of course, and a Hufflepuff." He says kindly.

Hermione twitches, and she covers her face with a huff, she's embarrassed, Harry would know considering they all wore the Hat another time over. But also very pleased, Ron as a Slytherin (He had spent a week checking the Hat for curses or other malfunctions), Harry a Ravenclaw (which had caused _Harry_ to check the Hat again), and finally Hermione as a Hufflepuff. "Shut it." And then she's jumping down with a belated shriek.

A quick step forward, a light hop, and Harry joins her, sliding down a tunnel that is filled with weightless magic. The tube sends him down and down, turning at random, and yet they never hit the sides, just spinning around until Hermione falls out far more gracefully than they did during their tenure at Hogwarts. Harry following almost seconds later.

Harry catches himself in a crouch and is glad for the cushioning charms they added after the rebuild. He still has painful memories of before where his feet ached and his bones shook from the landing.

They have been spit out at the remodeled dungeons. Unlike before while cool, the dungeons aren't dank or so frigid that the children coming to Hogwarts have to wear scarfs and winter gear _inside_ the Castle. There are various runes, well hidden, that keep the walls and floors warm when needed.

"Let's see where he is." Hermione mutters and sweeps down the hallway. Her black-brown curls flying behind her, and for a moment Harry admires his friend. She is beautiful, and a force of nature even when just walking. She takes steps that are confident and so unlike the scurrying movement of her younger unsure, and bullied, self. Her brown skin glistens in the torch light and she briefly glances back at Harry from halfway down the hall, "Coming?" She calls.

"Right behind you, 'Mione," Harry says, and quickens his pace to catch up.

Deeper inside of the Dungeons, hidden from prying eyes, are the paths leading beneath Hogwarts.

  


They finally reach the Founders chambers several minutes later. The first time it had taken at least an hour, but now Hermione, Ron, and Harry are all sure that the wards being filled with most of their magic has caused the Chambers to be more accessible. At least no one else, except Luna, Bill, and Neville who put almost as much magic into the wards, has been able to enter these parts.

Ron of course is in the fourway chamber.

Hermione steps in first so Harry only hears a murmured curse before she's speeding her steps, "Ron Weasley!"

Harry quickens his own pace and readies his wand. Only to find Ron perfectly fine. If stuck. He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose, glad that his glasses are unnecessary anymore. " Ron."

"Guys." Ron looks up, his wand loosely swings between his fingers and he looks flushed, his freckles appearing stark against the new color, "Hey, is it time to go out for drinks?" He asks.

Harry raises a brow, and bites back the amusement when Ron visibly cringes. He doesn't need to be a betting man to guess that Hermione's expression is any better. "Ron, how the hell did you get trapped in a bubble?" It's a glimmering bubble too, like iridescent liquid-crystal, surrounding him. Harry taps the tip of his wand against his palm and debates casting a diagnostic charm.

Shifting guiltily, Ron doesn't look at either of them. Which is a sure fire sign that he's not wanting to admit to a mistake. None of them are ever good about that. Harry knows from vivid scoldings from _both_ of his best friends and a few others exasperated frustration.

Harry eyes the room, briefly. Outside of the almost see through-crystal like-bubble is a room that's empty except for the four founder colors. It takes Harry a moment to remember that it really _shouldn't_ be empty. Half of their exploring had been looking through the desks and other artifacts that seemed to be a study or perhaps a joined office for the Founders.

Yet here and now the desks are gone, the papers, the pictures of their families--what families they did have, and most notably the beautifully stunning statues of what the trio had assumed were the four's familiars.

"Ron," Hermione murmurs, running a hand through her hair in distress, "Please, _please_ tell me you did not destroy the desks and pictures and _statues_ that are left of the Founders!"

"N-no!" Ron splutters, and waves at the room around him, "I was just curious about Ravenclaw's device--well all of them but it only activated when when I used her side of it." He glares mutinously at the ground, "Never should have touched it. Everything disappeared and then this thing appeared." He holds up a triangular piece of metal that glows with faint magical light. It actually looks in very good condition--like most of the office does, but what interests Harry the most is he believes it's not just Iron or Copper. "Turned into this when it activated, not even half the original size."

"Ron, what is that made of?" Hermione asks, her interest getting the best of her and she takes a few steps forward.

"No! Hermione!" Ron shouts.

Harry stumbles too a stop behind Hermione, but it's too late, her last step seems to facilitate the device in Ron's hand, or perhaps it's the surge of magic from Hermione's wand, but either way both of them are sucked into the bubble with Ron.

"Well, shit." Hermione frowns.

"Shit is right, mate." Harry says and doesn't even bother to give their startled gestures more than a roll of his eyes. Like anyone should be surprised that he followed Hermione in. "Let's see that device." He's unfortunately the best at diagnostic charms, and adept at most detecting spells. It's unfortunate that _he_ hadn't been the one to cast first, but he supposes it's another lesson learned.

Ron offers the piece of metal with a brief cringe.

Hermione mutters under her breath, and unlike her old habit of losing her temper at the slightest situation turning into a trap, she's more interested in the bubble around them. She prods it with her wand indelicately and starts casting.

"'Mione maybe don't do that." Ron offers, feebly. The glare he gets in return cows him well enough.

"I wouldn't _need_ to be doing this _Ronald_ , if someone hadn't gotten himself stuck." Hermione snaps, turning back to the bubble and the spells she keeps firing off.

Ron scowls, "I was just bloody well curious. You two always hide away from this Castle like it's an unwanted reminder when you bloody well know it's nothing of the sort."

Neither Harry or Hermione respond to that other than hunching their shoulders. It's not the same, admittedly they have all lost things here, but. Well, this is where _Harry had died_.

Where Hermione had lost half her stomach and still has to eat small meals several days of the month. Even Harry's best spells aren't quite right, though she is getting better.

Where Ron had lost several members of his family. George, Molly, Arthur, and took a curse to his left leg. Still felt phantom pain even with Harry working tirelessly to figure out how to undo it.

"We grieve differently." Harry offers, tapping his wand against the metal piece and creating a spiral above it. Like a microscope the swirling gray magic spin and zoom in. Harry doesn't need to look through the vortex to see the bits and pieces, thankfully, but he can't tell what runes they are--he had only taken a fraction of the runes classes he needed to start crafting spells, and has far more to learn.

"Bill would probably know." Ron mutters, and he sounds half apologetic, and has found a way to loop into Harry's spell.

"You're lucky you're my best mate, Ron Weasley." Harry says.

Hermione sniffs and _also_ connects to the spell with a barely there flick of her want tip, because of course she does, "As if he could live without us. No matter the famous Weasley temper." She sniffs again pointedly.

"I said I'm sorry!" Ron grumbles.

"No you didn't." Harry and Hermione retort.

The triangle warms suddenly--no that's not right it's been warming, just now Harry can actually feel it and he says, "Cut your magic from my spell."

"Too late," Hermione says, and yeah her wand hand isn't moving and her magic is still stringently tied to Harry's. Just like Ron's is.

"Well, if we die here, I'm _really sorry_." Ron says.

It might not be the most appropriate time, but Harry says quickly, "I'm sorry too mate, we should have spent more time here."

"Like you could handle being Headmaster without us." Hermione agrees, and then when Harry gives her a look quickly adds, "I'm sorry too. I miss our little adventures."

"Let's hope this one isn't the _Next Great Adventure_ ," Harry says just as the metal shines bright and sharp between them, between their fingers--who knows if the other two intentionally grabbed it or not--before a swirl of emerald, scarlet, bronze, and black magic shine across and through them.

 _Protect Hogwarts_. Is said in the sudden silence before a loud _boom_ hits them all and only quick instinct have each of them tightening their grips on the triangle, and their other hands finding eachother's in a scrambled painful pile.

 _Protect Hogwarts_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This hasn't been editted yet cuz I promised Cas I would try and get the third chapter out today, and I'm really enjoying writing this fic (there's not enough James/Harry fic that isn't either not in my interests (extreme underage) or hella abuse so trying to get to that part).
> 
> Anyway, enjoy, I just realized this has a shit ton of exposition so woops, I usually try to avoid that lmao.
> 
> (Incase anyone notices weird text discrepancies like odd spacing it's probably from me copying my writing from 4thewords and pasting it onto libre office, then pasting it back into ao3, so apologies in advance)

Harry doesn't so much wake up as feel like he's sliding back into consciousness. The first time had been strange, but for the most part after a few stupefies, he's pretty used to it by now.

  
There doesn't appear to be anyone here though. Wherever here is. It's dank and cold, water dripping against his chest and he wandlessly casts a cleaning charm to get the grossness off. Harry glances around quickly when he remembers Ron, Hermione, that damn device, which seems to be gone now, and those odd words.

  
"Harry." Hermione's barely visible in the low torch light but she's sitting up, Harry thinks.

  
Actually, Harry's probably just as hard to see considering the Potters are from Indian decent for the most part. He may be a little paler than his father's pictures thanks to Lily but he's not exactly as white as Ron.

  
Ron who's groaning and clutching the back of his head. "Why did I hit the floor and you two just landed on it?"

  
"You deserve it for picking up that bloody triangle in the first place." Hermione snaps before calming herself visibly, running her hands across her robes. "I can't believe we're in the dungeons. We best not have time traveled."

  
Harry opens his mouth to argue that point. Really, time traveled? Sure it's not far fetched, they had done it before, but really there is no evidence--oh, the dungeons. The Dungeons that haven't looked this dank and dreary since before the Hogwart's battle.

  
"Fuck us." Ron groans covering his face. "Please tell me we aren't going to go insane."

  
"Not if we avoid our past selves, we won't. Or anyone else. Who knows what we have to do to 'Protect Hogwarts'." Hermione bites her thumb and glares at nothing in particular.

  
"It's not Ron's entire fault." Harry has to offer, hoping to smooth things over. "You know as well as I do that we would have activated it with a charm or an accidental touch. You know exactly what we're like." He says.

  
"Yes, yes I do." Hermione murmurs against her thumb. With a sigh she looks around and then raises her wand, "Let's cast the invisibility spell and find out what we can."

  
The other two nod, and while the invisibility spell is a complex piece of magic it's one they've forced themselves to memorize. War is not an easy thing to forget about and Harry knows their luck. Like now it proves that their paranoia hadn't been too much. Unlike the Disillusionment charm, the invisibility spell sends a feeling like a blast of ice cold water across their bodies, and Harry's sure he's not the only one shivering.

  
"Combine us, Ron." Hermione says, a hint of blue hints at the tip of her wand, the only thing showing her position.

  
Ron's wand lights up next a soft pink that glimmers in the light.

  
Harry's lavender magic lights up next and it only takes a moment for Ron to weave his magic around the two of their wands and connect them to eachother. It's not quite a proper melding of magics like a Coven, but it's good enough, and their magic has always been compatible with eachother. None of them know if it's natural or just through close proximity but either way it makes fighting, healing, sparring, and heavy duty spells much easier to handle.

  
"Harry, take the lead." Ron says, once again visible to Harry's eyes.

  
Harry turns and starts towards where he's mostly guessing is the exit to the Entrance Hall. With his luck they might find themselves at Snape's office, which, is not something he wants to deal with, at all.

  
But for once the Potter luck doesn't fire and they do reach the Entrance Hall. It's empty, and the sound of children is the only indication that they are actually in Hogwarts while classes are going. The Great Hall's doors are closed. Harry glances around just incase, and listens.

  
Listening, Seeing, and Touching all have a divination element to them. Unfortunately most Seers are only considered Seers if they have the Seeing ability. Which has caused an assortment of children in the British Isles to go untested for other forms of the Blessing (as it's called, but Harry doesn't consider it much of one).

  
Listening allows Harry to divine the location of strong magical presences. The Potter Family has never had the true Sight, or strong Divination abilities, nothing about the future or past, just the present. Which means Harry doesn't know if those two teachers in one of the rooms to the right will come out, but he at least knows they're here.

  
"Mate?" Ron murmurs, pressing close to his back. From the feel of it Hermione's just behind him.

  
Harry can still remember when touches, even by his best friends, would be uncomfortable. But now, he enjoys every single touch, and cherishes them. "Let's go. Be careful to the right." He says.

  
They leave the Entrance Hall surprisingly easily. No child flies out of the Great Hall at the last minute. Neither of the magical adults in the right room enter the Hall. Harry releases a heavy sigh when they reach the border of the Forbidden Forest.

  
"Can we sigh after we get this spell off us?" Hermione tersely says, which is a fair point.

  
So they move in, carefully, and Harry is grateful for Ron and Hermione allowing him to Listen when necessary. But the closest magical signature that could be sapient is back at the school, and in the lake. He's not sure if the Squid is sapient so much as has a large enough core to be a challenge for a merperson.

  
Five yards into the forest they snap their wands down and the spell unravels like a cut scarf. All three sigh in relief. Magical cores suddenly not being strained to power a high class spell.

  
"I don't think I can apparate right now." Ron groans, rolling his shoulders.

  
"I can't believe I'm saying this Ronald, but you study too much." Hermione mutters brushing her hair into a loose ponytail and glaring at them when they gap at her. "Shush, he's too tired after holding a spell for maybe five minutes." She shakes her head and gives Ron a look. "We are sparring once we're safe."

  
Ron actually looks excited by the prospect, "Can't we do it now?" He raises his wand and gets into a ready crouch.

  
"We aren't dueling, here." Harry says gruffly, "and you are in no shape to do anything magical for a while."

  
Ron pouts, but Harry doesn't let his expression change his mind.

  
Hermione at least doesn't contradict Harry's assessment. While Harry watches over Ron, and sends him a bit of magic to keep his core up just incase, Hermione scouts the area and finds an alcove nearby.

  
Unlike most muggle areas, the Forbidden Forests trees are ancient and at least as old as the Castle, if not older. A few of them are so old that the trunks and roots are above ground and wide enough for a human or even a centaur to rest in.

  
The one Hermione shows them too is larger than any Harry's seen before, and it makes a suspicious tingle in the back of his mind, but he brushes it off.

  
"This is probably a Centaur Lime." Hermione says when they settle down around a simple blue flame, safe to touch but hot enough to keep them all warm. She takes both Ron and Harry's slumped bodies without a hint of strain, and the soft root that comes out of the ground and rests against their backs, helps.

  
"Centaur Lime?" Harry vaguely remembers something about Lime, Silver Lime? He knows his second wand, after his Phoenix wand had broken in the last fight between himself and Voldemort had had a sliver of Silver Lime--melded into a Rowan log either through magic or accident, and his core of a threstal heart string was on the tricky side but...the Silver Lime had been mentioned frequently by the wand maker.

  
"Silver Lime, it has divination properties. Figures the stuck ups would like it." Ron grumbles sleepily from Hermione's left side.

  
"Ron," Hermione sighs, and then sighs a little slower, "I suppose you aren't wrong for thinking that. The ones near Hogwarts haven't exactly been kind, but not every herd of Centaur are like the ones back home." She rolls her neck, ignoring the cracks that makes, and groans in relief, "Silver Lime because of it's divination properties tends to be where most Centaur place their nurseries, Like to Like I suppose. I haven't had time to go over the texts we have of Centaurs. Not when the Dragon research is so fascinating. Did you know that Dragon Blood has healing properties if doused with Morgana's tears? Oh Morgana's tears are those caused by a spell now but of course Morgana's tears were caused when her fellow mage and best friend Merlin fell in battle from a mortal wound. She wept and those tears from a Dark Witch healed his wounds and revived Merlin...."

  
Ron and Harry both listen indulgently to Hermione's ramble. It's almost like old times, and Harry barely remembers to cast a warding spell. Nothing complex, mostly a movement detection field, and a noise detection field around the roots of the Tree that protrude from the ground. That's the last thing he remembers before he falls into slumber.

 

 

"Harry, time to wake up," Ron's voice, familiar and low. The smell of rabbit cooking is the next thing Harry notices.

  
Harry's eyes open and he frowns at Ron's face, "Why are you in my clinic this early?" He tries to reach for a blanket but frowns when he finds nothing under him or near him. Except grass, dirt, and wood? Underneath him.

"Not at home mate," Ron pats Harry's shoulder once, twice and then heads back to the small fire that has several rabbits cooking above it. He stops Hermione from taking one and grumbles, "You work with Dragons all the time, why are you so impatient, wait until it's cooked."

  
Hermione groans and holds her stomach, "Because usually we don't have time to sit down and wait. Anti-viral and Anti-parasite spells are good enough."

A horrified expression crosses Ron's face and he points a finger at Hermione, "You are not eating anywhere without some of my own cooking. You would think someone as muggle-invested as you are would know better than to eat food that's under-prepared."

  
Clearing her throat, Hermione looks flushed, "It's not exactly like I intended to abuse the charms, but there's just so much to do! Dragons wait for no person. Or Wixen."

  
Ron scuffs and shakes his head, "Home cooked meals from now on Granger." He says and misses Hermione's small fond smile while turning the rabbits and adding some kind of spice to the cooking meat.

  
Harry stares at them for a few seconds longer before gathering himself. It hasn't taken too long for his memories of the last day or so to come back. He regrets that it took this event to bring the trio back together, but also can't regret it. They have been through worse, and he's sure they can beat Voldemort or any other threat that might be here.

Back in time.

"Our children selves are here." Harry says aloud, throat scratchy and raw. He doesn't like that idea. His kid self wandering around. Alone, no one believing him about the Dursley's except his friends. He doesn't hate Dumbledore for what the man chose to do, he understands the hard choices in life; better than most as a Healer, but it still leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

"If it didn't make us insane, I would be right there with you, mate." Ron says instantly, face fierce and voice low and solemn.

"In a heartbeat, Harry, but we can't chance losing our minds. If we beat whatever is threatening Hogwarts, though."Hermione taps her lips and looks longingly at the rabbits. "We can probably test the insane theory. I'll do it." She glares at Ron and Harry when they start to voice their dislike of that,

"I'm not a Healer or the Headmaster. Hogwarts has to recognize you, Ron, and let's be honest, Harry, neither of us have your talent for healing. I would be the best choice--"

"You know that's bullshit! Hogwarts is just as likely to pick you as it is to pick Harry if you two stuck around longer than a few days every once in a while I would probably be a Co-Headmaster by now." Ron snaps back, and his cheeks are crimson in his upset.

Hermione grimaces before opening her mouth, no doubt ready to bring a retort that is sharp and scathing.

"Neither of you are doing anything." Harry says, to cut them off. He ignores the twin glares he receives from them both via long practice, "If anyone should risk themselves for their past self, it should be me. And," He continues when they start interrupting him, "We won't do anything until we figure out what Hogwarts wanted from us. For all we know Voldemort is dead or a child, or any other sort of scenario. Hell, we could have a baby Dumbledore on our hands."

Hermione and Ron pause at that. Both of them staring at Harry as if the idea of a younger Dumbledore is utterly baffling.

"You think..." Ron starts.

"That it's not just time travel but an alternate timeline? Caused by our descent through time or just a natural nearby timeline to our own?" Hermione rubs her chin and grabs one of the sticks of rabbit, biting into it and chewing in thought.

"That would imply not just Time Travel but a bit of sideways travel." Ron runs a hand over his short cropped hair, gleaming red in the filtered sunlight,

"But, what makes you think that we dimension traveled? That doesn't make much sense. I mean don't get me wrong Harry, our lives are crazy enough that I don't disbelieve you. But...The dungeons looked exactly the same. Even the Forbidden Forest feels the same.."

"The Tree." Harry says, and frowns at them when they look at him blankly, "This one, the one we're sitting in. It wasn't here in our time. Even before the battle. I think we would have noticed a tree this big. Actually pretty sure everyone would have noticed. Especially if the Centaurs used it for a nursery."

Hermione grimaces and swallows, "Umbridge would have had a field day with that. Harry's right, I don't remember this Silver Lime being this close to the Castle, unless it was hidden from view?" She asks Ron.

Shaking his head, Ron wandlessly levitates one of the sticks to Harry, lowers the fire so the other sticks won't burn, and takes one for his own, "Doubt it. I sure as hell have never seen it before and most illusions don't work on someone with Hogwarts fully backing them."

Harry takes the stick with a mumbled thanks, tearing into the meat with a pleased groan at the flavors. He had almost forgotten how much of Molly's cooking Ron has picked up. The meal is a good one, even with little diversity to it, and Ron packs up the extra rabbits in a seal-able, almost muggle like, container with preservation charms when the meal is done. "We need to scout the school." Harry says.

Hermione nods. "It's the only way."

Ron gives them a look and sighs, "I suppose we have to, you know I thought this shit wouldn't happen anymore after I strengthened the wards."

"It's the golden trio effect, Ron." Harry says just to see Hermione roll her eyes. Out of all of them, Hermione is the one to find the magical theory named after their publicly chronicled adventures ridiculous. Harry on the other hand has to admit there's something to it, only they three ever seem to get into these messes.

With a snort of laughter, Ron nods.

Hermione scuffs and is the first to leave the trees protective housing, muttering about idiotic theories and delusional wixen.

"Mate, you know she's going to get you back for that." Ron says, casting various spells to hide their presence. Any Centaur might be able to see that there was someone here, but a wixen would have to dig deep, or be especially gifted with green magic or divination magic.

"I'm sure I can handle whatever she throws at me." Harry replies, it's not like Hermione would risk their presence here or something equally as dangerous. Probably. His brain takes that moment to remind him of all the times she came back to him with third degree or worse dragon burns and decides perhaps he should just be a little cautious.

"Let's go, gentlemen." Hermione calls.

"Your funeral mate," Ron tells him and heads out.

Harry shakes his head and follows.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so difficult to write because I know exactly how I want Harry and James Potter to start, and maybe Sirius, but getting there is the problem.
> 
> So while I'm frustrated that it's taking longer to get to that point, I'm gonna do it right so I can read this self indulgent fic later and future me can enjoy it. 
> 
> As always please be kind w/ comments; and no I do not want unsolicited crit.

Splitting up any other time would be on the list of hard nos. Or at least the list of _We can't leave Harry Potter alone for ten seconds_ that Hermione and Ron still think Harry doesn't know about. But it's _Hogwarts_ , and they all know the school as well as they know their wands.

Harry takes the dungeons, first floor and second--after all he's the only parseltongue of the group (no matter how hard Hermione's been trying to learn Dragon-speech) and the most likely to interact successfully with any Slytherin's many corridors and rooms-- Ron goes to Seventh, astronomy tower, sixth, and Hermione takes the third, fourth, and of course the fifth floor.

For all that Harry's been down here for detention these dungeons feel a little...different. He can't say why at first. In fact it takes him halfway through looking through _another_ storage room to realize what's wrong.

Snape's office is gone. Which either confirms Harry's thoughts on this world not being their own, or that they traveled farther back in time than he thinks they are. For all he knows they have.

With that frustrating realization, Harry continues looking for an office, or perhaps a portrait hiding a door. Except none of his spells show a door hidden by any of the paintings nearby or further into the Dungeon. For all that the Dungeons look the same--and still has their familiar potions room, though it looks even more dusty than Harry remembers it--there is very little else that’s similar.

"Finally, something is _here_." Harry mutters, stopping at a wall with faint hints of snakes around it. He hisses _open_ at the stone and is mildly relieved when the stone grates open. He is glad at least that Slytherin's backdoor passwords seem to work wherever this Hogwarts is. Or whenever. He walks in carefully and quiet, staying in the shadows with his disillusionment charm still in effect.

Completely empty.

"What the hell is going on." Harry scowls and glares at the empty Common Room. He gets no answer, and even the few spells he casts, don't indicate illusions or other possible traps. A few brief diagnostic charms on Harry even show his usual readings (old malnourishment that even the best potions didn't totally remove, his slowly healing eye-sight disability, and old bone breaks and injuries; no hexes, curses or web like spell structures around him). He spends an un-estimated time searching through the rooms, opening nooks and crannies and ending with the realization that the whole of Slytherin's House is absolutely empty.

With a severe frown and a curdle of concern (Harry _had_ learned that Slytherins weren't all terrible, though a few were just as bad as Voldemort, and this sudden disappearance was concerning), Harry leaves the Dungeons, and starts checking the First Floor.

  


Back at the Entrance Hall, Harry has to duck into the shadows of the grand stair-case leading up to the First Floor, and watch the sudden stream of students fill the Hall. There's _so many_. Not just one or two classes leaving the grounds to go back into the Castle or coming down from Transfiguration, but at least half the school is headed to the Great Halls.

"Is it lunch, already?" A voice drifts from Harry's right and he jolts for a moment, because that voice is vaguely familiar. Like a faded photo.

"Definitely lunch, how did you forget?" Feminine in tone, the other voice sounds exasperated.

A quick glance shows a woman with red hair and crossed arms. She looks pretty, with a sort of stance that Harry has seen plenty enough in exasperated mothers and teachers.

The man beside her is...is...very familiar. It takes Harry an embarrassingly long time to realize it's _Sirius Black_. Then he's too shocked to do anything while they keep talking. His head is spinning.

"Lils,"

Oh boy, is the room spinning? It feels like it's spinning.

"I have advanced Transfiguration mishaps almost every day, at least most of your kids' mistakes can be stopped before they turn themselves into a pig." Sirius Black, _Sirius Black alive and well_ , grumbles.

"I did warn you and James not to take McGonagall's position." _Lily, Lily Evans_ , says.

Both of them are far prettier than Harry expected--which is fine when it comes to his mom, he's always known she's pretty, just hadn't seen it in person--but well, Sirius had been one of Harry's numerous crushes. Which is not helping his momentary lapse of control on anything except the spell because he _knows_ it will end badly if they see him. Even if he desperately wants to rush forward and hug them both.

"Yes, yes, my husband and I are very humbled by your wisdom, oh great Evans." Sirius retorts.

_Husband??!_ Harry doesn't know how many other revelations he can take today. He slides down to the floor and stares at Sirius and Lily who continue talking for a few minutes before disappearing into the thinning crowd and away from Harry's view point. Unintentionally, Harry _listens_ and his tracking with his listening-divination, while not the best, he is still able to follow their warm magical cores--Lily's a little cooler and strangely green covering part of it; and Sirius' a familiar starry black and white-- through the Great Hall meeting with a scarlet magical core that makes Harry feel breathless and flushed for some reason he can't name. (The part of his mind that reminds him of the same reaction he had to Sirius' magical core the first time he felt it, calls him a _liar_ )

Suddenly, it doesn't seem as important to scan the first floor, and Harry pulls out his wand, "Point me, Hermione," and hurries to her. If anyone can handle Harry's inevitable freakout, it's his best friends. He doesn't even notice when his _L_ _i_ _stening_ ability becomes stretched too thin to keep track of the three fascinating magical cores. Just the sudden odd pang of losing something half remembered, but in his panicked state his mind is on other things. Like how the fuck is he supposed to protect Hogwarts when his parent(parents?!) are alive and well.

  


"Moine!" Harry slams into the Hospital Wing, out of breath and shaking.

" Harry?" Hermione turns from speaking with--Madam Pomfery?--with a frustrated expression before her eyes alight on him. Suddenly she looks worried and she's hurrying over to him, "Harry what's wrong? And Merlin why did this have to happen _now_."

The feebly rational part of Harry has to agree. His walking in like this is no doubt inconvenient for whatever story Hermione has been spinning. But most of him is still _reeling_ , "My parents." He modulates his voice, barely, aware that Madam Pomfrey has no idea who they _really_ are; if anyone is good at keeping the lies in truths it's Hermione.

"Oh." Hermione wraps an arm around Harry's waist and tightens her grip. "I suppose this would be a bad time to tell you--"

"This is your brother you said Miss Geosltgar," Madam Pomfrey starts towards them, a look that Harry doesn't remember ever seeing on her face.

Harry mouths _Geostlgar_ in bewilderment. A pinch to his side has Harry shutting his mouth.

"Shut it, I didn't have a lot of options." Hermione mutters, she clears her throat and brushes a hand over her cheek, clearly embarrassed.

Barely refraining from mentioning how that combination of letters isn't something just _thought up_ on the spot, Harry smiles at Madam Pomfrey, a smile that isn't stellar, "'ello."

"Well your sister said you were a healer, but you appear to need some healing. I still do not have more than your words, Miss Geostlgar about your brother’s so called talents. Would you take a test for me? Then I will of course accommodate your sudden fatigue." Madam Pomfrey says, and there's a gleam in her eye now. As if she doesn't at all think Harry will be the healer Hermione claims him to be.

"Madam, perhaps a pepper up first?" Hermione's tone is suddenly stern and verging on glacial. She's never liked seeing Harry or Ron hurt, and has never quite gotten over authority figures doing something she perceives as wrong.

Harry supposes he can't blame her. He is feeling shaky over the revelations, and as a Healer himself even with his suspicions his oath tends to take precedence.

A light flush crosses Madam Pomfrey's cheeks and she nods, "But I still expect a proper test. We don't usually allow visitors, much less ones that apply in person without the Headmaster's permission." She doesn't seem to able to decide on a frown or a smile at that statement. She nods towards one of the rooms towards the back, near her office. "There are a few containment rooms for those who have serious or contagious illnesses, go there, and I will bring the magical dummy to test you for your position. And of course the Pepper Up." She leaves with a quick step that almost hides how hard her hand is gripping her wand as if she's waiting for them to attack her.

"This is a perfect time for the Potter Luck to hit us," Hermione whispers in a furious tone. She sighs and hugs Harry closer, "I am so sorry, about the cover if I had known this would happen..."

"No chance of you getting divination when you don't even believe in it." Harry teases, and grins at Hermione's exasperated expression.

" _Listening_ isn't exactly divination either. It's just knowing what and where a magical is. You might as well use a point me." The familiar words fall from her lips with more amusement than any seriousness. They have had this argument so many times that it's not quite an argument anymore. Their skill-sets have always been different, and Ron's only adds to their repertoire; in all honesty they mesh well _for_ their differences.

"Except a _Point Me_ needs a name, and won't be any use if you use a general noun but don't have any indicator of their intent or movement patterns." Not that Harry is skilled enough to _Listen_ on a person's intent. Supposedly Hufflepuff had been able to _Listen_ in such a way that any person who even _planned_ to trifle with them ended with their whole operation backfiring. There was a reason Hufflepuff had the Badger as their House symbol.

"Here you are," Madam Pomfrey arrives with a slightly smoking vial and offers it to Harry. She smiles slightly, "Your sister appears to have eased some of your paleness, which is good." There is the Healer that Harry remembers, the one who obstinately cared so much that she came out of retirement to help train Harry in some of the healing arts. "Now let us head to the room where you will take your test. If done well than I will recommend you to the Headmaster. Considering the events for this year, we could certainly _use_ another trained healer." She mutters the last part with a scowl across her lips.

Harry gulps down the vial, ignoring the steam drifting from his ears, and glances at Hermione.

Hermione mouths _events_ and raises her brows.

Neither of them can quite ask outright, bad enough that Harry rushed in and Hermione somehow lost her position of stealth, and got caught. The only good thing is that even shocked and bewildered as Harry is, he can still heal. He's even done so drunk, even if unintentionally, stabbed, and on the verge of death.

With Madam Pomfrey leading the way, the two follow, into the room with a dummy that is _almost_ similar to the ones on the market.

"Did you do the adjustments?" Harry blurts out, he's already got his wand out, and it is _very_ tempting to cast a few invasive diagnostic charms, but if the dummy is actually 'on' he doesn't want to kill his ‘patient’. The diagnostic charms he's thinking of using are usually for inanimate objects and people who have died already.

"Ah, perhaps you _are_ a Healer. Yes, this isn't the original market model. The spells on it are quite advanced. But then it's Hogwarts, our selection of Alumni who can share their work are many. It's quite lucky that so many have such fond memories of our halls." Madam Pomfrey smiles and then taps her wand against the chest and head of the dummy. Activating it almost instantaneously. Glamours cover the person suddenly there in place of the dummy.

"I don't feel so good, Doc." The person says, gravely voice deep and rough.

Harry raises a brow.

Hermione let's out a huffed laugh, "One of your Alumni is clearly muggle-born." She says.

"Quite." Madam Pomfrey says with a decidedly put out tone.

"Don't worry, I will help ease your pain at the very least, and with any luck have you out of here soon enough." Harry says to the dummy. He knows that in reality the dummy isn't alive, but he's never felt right treating the dummy as an actual inanimate object while active. Shaking out his wand Harry starts casting. First of course, are the diagnostic charms. They come out easily and quickly, Harry pronounces them audibly for Madam Pomfrey's benefit, but soon grows distracted by the results.

A few broken ribs, easy enough to set thankfully, and a...Harry has to take a moment to check again. Apparently whoever made the dummy decided to add a scenario where the person has transfigured part of their lung into a dog. He has never done an animal-de-transfiguration inside of someone's body before, but it can't be as difficult as turning back a half transfigured person or an animagus transformation gone wrong.

Hermione is suddenly leaning over his shoulder, "Please tell me that's not a Chihuaha's butt inside of a rib cage."

"It is." Harry mutters, before telling the patient, "Would you prefer sleeping through this, or a numbing spell?"

"Like hell do I wanna be awake for this." They say.

Madam Pomfrey pinches her nose as if she's in physical pain from the Dummy's response.

Hermione snorts.

"Right," Harry's lips twitch and a sleeping and numbing spell later, he has his wand carefully marking the spots that he needs to open. A few broken bones would be easy enough to heal through intact skin, but he doesn't want to chance transfiguring the ribs into the lungs. That would just cause even _more_ problems. With quick, graceful motions, Harry has the dummy's chest open, and is staring at a chihuahuas butt.

"It's really in there." Hermione murmurs, voice full of disbelief. "How did they even incorporate that into the base spellwork without ruining all the glamours and other illnesses? Not to mention breaking down the lungs without the dummy dying."

"Unfortunately some of our Alumni are very studious in their fields." Madam Pomfrey sniffs, "And friends."

"Well, it's definitely something Ron and you would do." Hermione admits with crossed arms and a gleam in her eyes. Poor sods, whoever they are, are going to get an interrogation for _hours_ if Hermione ever meets them.

Harry doesn't bother telling Hermione that she would be right there with them, because he has other things to focus on. Keeping the ribs open, another spell to make sure the person is breathing, one for recycling blood and keeping the pulse steady, it's quite a bit of a magical strain. Harry focuses his attentions on the dog slowly working through the steps to transfigure it back to proper lungs.

Time is hard to discern during times like these. Especially when the surgery is tricky, and Harry's magic is full throttle. It's reassuring knowing that Hermione's nearby. Even back home, Harry wouldn't be comfortable with this type of work without a few wards inbetween his patient, himself, and whatever may try to interfere or hurt. (More than once Harry's had a meddling family member, or a hostile magical creature or hostile wixen cause problems) Slowly, Harry undoes the transfiguration, and has a slightly over-sized lung back inside of the person's body. A few more minutes and Harry has the lung back to average size, and fixes the bones, before putting everything back into place and closing their chest back up.

Casting a few diagnostic charms, Harry carefully let's go of each life-support spell and allows the Dummy's 'brain' to take over.

Several long moments of silence fill the room while Madam Pomfrey examines the body. Magic that's sly and white flickering at the edges of Harry's senses. Only when she seems satisfied with all of her spell results does she speak, "Well," Madam Pomfrey glances at them, "This is quite a surprise. If I am being quite honest Miss and Mr Geosltgar, I thought you were spies for Voldemort. Or a criminal trying to gain access to the students or potions..."

Hermione gives Harry a significant look.

Not that Harry needs it, _Voldemort_ , and yet, somehow his parents are alive? He wonders _how_ and tries to curtail any residual envy of this world's Harry Potter. For all he knows his parents didn't even have him; after all Sirius said James is his Husband. Which is something Harry is not about to ponder on _now_. "No, just a Healer. I'm sure Hermione already spoke of her and Ron's abilities in regards to teaching." He adds.

"That is something Headmaster Dumbledore will have to discuss with your siblings, but I will eat my wand before I let you go Harry Geosltgar. I am not getting any younger, and I can hardly stand the idea of those children getting hurt without some extra hands on deck." Madam Pomfrey shakes her head, and absently conjures two armchairs, "Please sit, and I will go Fire-call Dumbledore. With any luck we will have all three of your rooms ready in an hour."

The two watch Madam Pomfrey once again leave in a flurry of skirts and robes before they are once again alone.

"I can't believe you made me a Healer to Hogwarts." Harry mutters, crossing his arms. "Do you know how many times I told Ron I wouldn't take the post?"

"He is going to be furious." Hermione says with a cheeky grin.

With a roll of his eyes, Harry flops onto the armchair, and snaps a privacy ward around the room, and door (which closes with a soft click), and leans forward. "You are not going to believe this."

"Harry, you are my best friend and brother. I would believe it if you said it." Hermione says dryly. She settles down on the arm of the other armchair and looks expectantly at Harry.

"My parents are alive. Or at least Lily and Sirius are. I think James is alive--from the sound of it I mean. And he's married to Sirius? I think?!" Harry's gripping his fingers so tightly that they have gone white.

Hermione lips part and she stares at him. "Oh." For the first time in years, Hermione is speechless, and Harry really wishes she wasn't.

"Yeah." Harry says, how the fuck is he supposed to be a healer in a school with his parents alive and well?

"I suppose this is a perfect opportunity to get to know them." Hermione says finally.

Harry's head snaps up and he scrunches his brows in confusion, "We shouldn't be meddling with the time--"

"Harry you know that is entirely out of the equation now. I got caught...shouldn't have gotten distracted by those Dragons outside." Hermione sighs and scratches at her chin. She doesn't even have the decency to look embarrassed for _why_ she got caught. "You deserve time with your parents, in any-way you can get it."

"Voldemort." Harry blurts out, feeling panicked and for once suffocatingly fearful when there isn't a Dementor nearby.

Giving Harry a _look_ , Hermione waves at the hospital wing, "I'm sure you heard Madam Pomfrey, she isn't about to let her prized coworker disappear now that she's found someone to help her with Hogwarts." She tilts her head and tries to bite back a smile but it's futile and Harry can see it clearly enough, "It's almost a little like Karma. I mean how many times have you stumbled in here and caused her undue stress?" She turns her head away at Harry's glare.

Once she's clearly recovered herself, Hermione continues, "Harry you know this is just how it will work. Ron and I can handle the horcruxes while you take care of your parents and the students." She leans to the side and hugs him, "It will be okay, Har'"

Somehow, Harry believes her, and hugs her just as tightly.


End file.
